


Obedience

by Cherry_Pye



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Sam - Freeform, Dom Dean Winchester, Dominance, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Obedience, Sam/Dean - Freeform, Teasing, Teen Sam, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_Pye/pseuds/Cherry_Pye
Summary: Sam always does what Dean tells him to do...always.





	Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> Again an old Tumblr fic of mine that I’ve remastered. The premise is a budding D/s dynamic between the brothers which I think it’s pretty clear I’m very partial to. Oh yes, and this was actually inspired by a beautiful, f*cking sexier-than-anything GIF that I will have to re-find and post here.
> 
> Edit: found and added the GIF!
> 
> Smut, a fair amount of it. This is some smutty smut, just sayin. That’s your warning.
> 
> (I still will likely do another edit so forgive any errors, they will be fixed)

Sam blinked heavily, his mind rejecting what his eyes were seeing as he froze mid-buck with his hips and tensed his fingers where they were clamped down and spread out over the front of his shorts.

His breath caught sharply in his throat as he stared disbelievingly at the dark silhouette of his brother leaning silently up against the wall in the shadowy corner of the room by the door, and a few more long, motionless seconds ticked by without a word from either of them before Sam’s sex-hazy thoughts finally untangled themselves enough to actually process the fact that Dean was…Dean was-

Oh god...

“Sh-shit. Fuck,” Sam choked in a panicked stammer, flinging his hand out to one side and scrambling his heels against the floor to shove backward toward the foot of his bed, hastily sitting up to drape as much of his arms as he could over his lap and blurting out his brother’s name like a question and an attempt at an explanation all at once as Dean walked toward him very slowly, stopping less than three feet away and looking down at Sam with a penetrating, unreadable expression.

“I didn’t, I didn’t hear you get-get back,” Sam breathed out anxiously, struggling to remember everything he might have said out loud, not to mention any…noises he might have been making, “-when…how long were you-, uh, standing there?”

Dean shifted his weight into a wider stance and eased his hands halfway into the small pockets on the thighs of his jeans, his mouth tugging into a crooked smile on one side that was different in some fundamental way than any other smile Sam had ever seen on his brother’s face.

“Not long,” he responded softly, cocking his head and giving Sam a thorough, lingering once-over that sparked Sam’s stomach with adrenaline, an embarrassing flush of blood coloring his cheeks under his brother’s unrelenting stare as he wondered breathlessly why Dean wasn’t leaving, why he’d-, why he’d come closer, why he was just… _right_ there…

He twined his hands together into a tight twist over his lap, willing his cock to cooperate and hunching down even further with a dry, nervous swallow.

“I-I…I was just, it was-”

“-Yeah. I saw. You didn’t have to stop, Sammy.”

Dean said it unwaveringly, without hesitation, his gaze taking on an almost challenging edge as Sam’s mouth opened around a shocked hitch of a breath in response, his back straightening with a little crack and his head buzzing with confusion-laced arousal while Dean actually tacked on a low chuckle, dropping into a crouch to level his face to Sam’s and quietly murmuring, “-nothin’ I don’t know all about myself…right?”

Sam felt like he might be having a heart attack.

“I’m, you-you…I don’t think, uh, I was t-talking about-”

He cleared his throat violently, his eyes watering as Dean lowered a firm palm to his shoulder to massage into his bare skin with steady little presses of his calloused fingertips.

“I know, Sammy. And like I said, you didn’t have to stop.”

Dean used his other hand to calmly reach for one of Sam’s forearms, gripping around it unyieldingly near the elbow and tugging at it, urging it away from Sam’s lap with a low whisper of, “It’s okay. I promise. Just let me. Just relax,” as Sam’s stomach flipped dizzyingly inside of him, the air rushing from his lungs in a noisy pant and his shoulder twitching in protest as he reluctantly unclenched his muscles to allow Dean to pull his arm to his side, exposing his erection through the thin fabric of his shorts and piercing his entire abdomen with a surge of anxiety as he desperately fought the urge to hide himself again.

He felt…fuck…he felt unbelievably exposed…nervous and jumpy and just…wildly alarmed about all of this, about what was going on and whether or not Dean had actually been expecting-

But his mind went temporarily blank as Dean’s gaze dropped blatantly down to his crotch, his nails digging into Sam’s elbow and his jaw locking around a muffled hiss as he stepped his feet in even closer, his other hand moving to comb through Sam’s hair while Sam struggled to wrap his head around what the hell was happening...

What was-, why now? Why was-

“Dean, wha-what are you…what’s…what are you doing?” he finally managed to ask in a tiny, trembling voice, his chest burning everywhere over his pounding heart as Dean just trailed his fingers to Sam’s wrist in response, wordlessly urging Sam’s hand over his shorts to ease it down pointedly onto the bulge of his cock.

“It’s okay,” Dean repeated, grinding his teeth a little and giving Sam a slow nod, “Do it. Show me.”

Sam bit down hard on his lip to stifle a groan, still completely blown away by the fact that any of this was real and not understanding at all where it was coming from, but fuck…Dean was telling him to do it, and he always did what Dean told him to do…

His fingers clamped down obediently around the outline of his cock before he could even overthink it and slid immediately into a tight stroke that felt so much fucking better in so many ways than when he’d been touching himself without Dean there.

Dean watched him comply with a rough hum of a sound that shuddered Sam into a slump against the bed, his eyelids fluttering feverishly and his mouth opening around a breathy gasp as he rubbed more vehemently in firm, quick pumps, fueled by Dean’s murmured praises and suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to get to more of himself…to just shove under the waistline of his shorts and grab his bare cock.

But...would that be too much?

Would it snap Dean out of whatever amazing psychological breakdown he seemed to be having?

As if he could read Sam’s mind, Dean leaned in with his upper body close enough for Sam to feel his brother’s hot breath on the side of his neck, one of Dean’s hands skimming in a barely-there touch over Sam’s hip before lightly bunching up some of the cotton fabric and rolling it slowly between his fingers.

“You wanna…take them off, Sammy?”

Oh god.

Sam choked out a slurred sound, trying to get words from his brain to his tongue and finally just settling for an eager, hasty nod as Dean trailed up and over with his fingertips, pausing at the top of Sam’s shorts and quietly adding, “-you…you want me to do it?” in a slightly uncertain voice like there was some chance that Sam might say no despite it being completely obvious at this point that he was getting off on all of this…on having Dean watch him, touch him, talk to him so fucking provocatively…

Sam frantically nodded again with a shallow gasp, heeling himself down onto his back right away before Dean could change his mind and flexing his stomach muscles through an aching rush of blood that filled his cock even further where he still had it roughly clenched in his fist, his legs spreading to stretch out on either side of Dean as he flattened himself, panting, to the carpet.

Dean actually groaned...very softly but undeniably, his eyes raking over Sam’s body in the new position and both of his hands suddenly moving to splay out and weigh down just below Sam’s rib cage in a way that felt possessive and impulsive and controlling and just… _fuck_ …so fucking hot that Sam heard himself whine out a labored moan of his brother’s name before he could swallow it, holding his breath immediately afterward with an icy rush of apprehension while he silently prayed that it wasn’t going to scare Dean off.

But Dean just leaned more of his weight onto Sam in response, his own breath ragged and needy and his thumbs pushing hungrily into Sam’s skin as he ironed his way further down, easing back slightly when he reached Sam’s bellybutton and dragging outward to rub near Sam’s waist in hypnotic little circles while Sam trembled through another full-body shiver.

“So fucking-…jesus, so fucking beautiful, Sammy,” Dean panted, pressing his lips together into a hard line after he said it like he hadn’t meant to actually speak the words out loud, but Sam just dug his fingers into the carpet by his thighs with a whispered beg of “please-ple- _please_ ,” widening his eyes up at Dean and letting all pretenses melt away from his face to show his brother how much he wanted this…god, how much he needed it, how badly he needed Dean to go through with this, to finish what he started, to just take it…

Fuck...to take whatever he wanted.

Anything.

Dean’s upper lip curled instantly into a silent half-snarl while he watched Sam gazing pleadingly up at him, his own eyes glossing over and his palms moving in swift, downward, mapping slides over the tops of Sam’s thighs.

Sam instinctively lifted off the floor with his hips, whimpering unabashedly now and offering himself up to Dean’s touch with a fresh surge of electric arousal deep in his chest, his heels kicking against the carpet and his vision hazing over almost deliriously as Dean continued to rub firm, teasing stripes on either side of the straining push of his cock.

Dean’s hands were shaking by the time he eased back up again to hook under the elastic waistband, quietly instructing Sam to move his legs closer together and stepping outward, still in a crouch, from his spot between Sam’s knees to slowly lower the shorts down almost torturously over Sam’s cock and then over his thighs, finally tugging them free from each foot and tossing them aside to collapse into an unsteady sit, his eyes shining with an animalistic longing that he didn’t even try to hide as he stared, transfixed, at Sam’s bare cock.

And Sam could barely even breathe at all now, had completely forgotten how to, his thoughts spinning and colliding and overflowing with the surreal reality of his brother actually undressing him…undressing him and looking at him like-, jesus…like Dean wanted to fuck him right here, right now…fuck him until they both passed out…

Sam bit down on both sides of his tongue at that thought, at the thought of Dean fucking him, at the thought of him just…taking it, fucking him until he couldn’t tell up from down, just…jesus fucking christ-

He arched helplessly off the floor again with a needy little cry that seemed entirely too loud in the otherwise silent room, but Dean just moved in close again between Sam’s thighs with a murmur of, “shh, yeah, it’s okay,” slowly licking his lips and exhaling another groan as Sam shuddered reactively below him, his cock leaking in raw anticipation and one of his hands lifting impatiently from the carpet to trail down the middle of his stomach while he waited breathlessly for Dean to tell him what to do.

But without explanation, Dean was suddenly pulling himself to his feet and straightening to a stand while he continued to stare unblinkingly down at Sam, inching his fingers over to his own fly and halting on the button to tickle suggestively back and forth over the metal while Sam gaped disbelievingly up at him.

“I could do it,” Dean offered, rubbing the pad of his thumb down the stretch of his zipper and back up again for emphasis, “Or I could just sit down again, Sammy. So…I need you to tell me what you want.”

It took Sam a few long seconds to even mentally process what he was seeing and hearing, to wrap his head around the fact that Dean wanted to take his pants off, wanted to do…well, Sam didn’t know what, but clearly something that involved his cock, which was so fucking mind-numbingly hot that Sam almost came instantly just imagining it, his hand jerking down to squeeze frantically around the base of his cock and his eyes rolling back uncontrollably as he curled his toes painfully into the floor and groaned his brother’s name twice in a row.

“Oh my g-…fuck, Dean, f-fuck, yes, yes-yes, please, fuck, please-“

He’d been staring mostly up at Dean’s face until then, utterly captivated by his brother’s swiftly darkening expression, but as he refocused his vision, his eyes landed more clearly on Dean’s crotch again where Dean was already working open his fly, Sam’s heart jumping wildly in his chest at the sight of his brother’s very obvious erection and his fist contracting around his cock as he seized up through a coiled rush of heat in his stomach that left him shaking and gasping and tingling everywhere with half-formed thoughts of what Dean might be planning to do.

Dean had been watching the path of Sam’s gaze, his cock jerking visibly at Sam’s volatile reaction to the fact that he was hard, and he was suddenly almost tearing at the denim of his jeans in his hurry to clumsily yank them down quickly enough, following right away with his boxers and kicking it all free from his feet before hastily mirroring Sam and grabbing the base of his cock like he might be about to lose control, a long growl dragging from the back of his throat that turned into Sam’s name at the very end as he finally lowered himself down again to move in on his knees nearly to the very tops of Sam’s inner thighs.

“Jack off, Sammy,” he ordered in an urgent pant, lifting up to the full height of his knees and stroking his own cock with another gasping little growl, his eyes darker with fully-blown pupils than Sam had ever seen anyone’s, “-do it. Come on, Sammy. Do it.”

Sam was writhing on the floor with sharp twists and lifts off the carpet, a steady stream of whimpers and moans and half-words dripping out from between his lips as he eagerly obeyed, and…distantly, he realized that it probably would have been embarrassing, coming completely unraveled like this…if he could feel anything other than overwhelming lust, but right here, right now, he couldn’t help it…and he couldn’t care that he couldn’t help it, not with his cock wet and swelling with heightened nerves and aching and harder than he could ever remember it being.

But…fuck, jesus…

“De-…Dean,” he groaned, pinching his eyes tightly shut for a moment and clenching every muscle in his torso, “-can’t…gonna cum if…nnmh, f-…oh god, can’t-”

He broke off, utterly beyond the ability to speak, and Dean threw his head back with a responding sound that had Sam gasping for air, his thighs rippling and tightening convulsively as he desperately tried to hold himself back from careening uncontrollably over the edge.

“Yeah, Sammy, fuck, want you to,” Dean hissed, jacking his own cock in tight, rapid strokes, “Jesus, need to see it, it’s okay, fuck, do it, Sammy, show me.”

And Sam always did what Dean told him to do.

Always.

His back teeth came together almost painfully and he bucked up into his now-erratic pumps with a violent jerk of his hips, crying out his brother’s name on repeat and locking into a stiff, shaking arch as he instantly shot into his fist, his entire body blazing white hot with it and a rasping sob tearing from his chest as he twitched his hand in sloppy, uneven strokes through searing waves of cumming so fucking intensely that it felt like his organs were being liquified inside of him.

It was at least a full minute before he could even see again over the swirling fog blanketing his vision, and as he re-focused his eyes on his brother’s face, breathing in trembling huffs and damp with sweat, he almost went instantaneously under again…the air catching in his lungs as he processed the sight of Dean staring down at him, possessive and fuck-drenched, like he was seconds away from devouring Sam whole.

Fucking jesus…

Nothing…nothing could ever be as hot as his brother like this, not ever, not-

“If…if I had told you to…would you have let me touch you, Sammy? Touch you like-like...that?”

Dean asked the question very quietly, but his voice was so low and so rough that it stabbed immediate chills up the length of Sam’s spine, his now-softening cock achingly trying to twitch hard again and his head moving up and down in a thrash of a nod as he struggled to work his tongue enough to answer with actual words.

“Oh my god, Dean, I…I’d do a-anything. Oh god. You could-…there’s nothing I wouldn’t let you do…nothing. I-”

He paused, his cheeks flushing hot and red.

“-you could…you could f-…you could fuck me. Or my-…my mouth, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give you, god…nothing.”

He wasn’t sure he should have gone that far with it, wasn’t sure he should have said…all that, but before he could even start to properly worry about it-

Dean’s eyes widened hugely, his arms below the sleeves of his t-shirt pricked with visible goosebumps and his teeth grinding together as his expression curled into something that might have even been frightening if it hadn’t been so unbelievably hot.

He responded with a deep, wracked noise like a snarl, tightening his grip around his cock and inhaling a broken up gasp as he snapped his hips further in toward Sam, his thigh muscles clenching and straining and his strokes turning shallow and erratic while Sam just watched, hopelessly enthralled and already more than half-hard again.

Groaning, Dean swung one knee roughly over Sam’s lower pelvis with no warning or hesitation, leaning at least half of his weight into it and shifting his grip downward to suddenly cum directly onto Sam’s cock with a wordless growl, instantly stiffening Sam up everywhere and unbelievably spasming him, right away, into a second pulse of cumming nearly-dry without even having a hand on himself anymore, blacking out his vision with it and searing him with equal parts pleasure and pain as Dean’s free hand crushed bruisingly into his thigh.

“Oh my g-, oh god, Sammy, holy fuck, you…fuck, fuck-”

Dean was swearing like a broken record and shaking all over as he painted Sam, his eyes glued to Sam’s twitching cock and his chest heaving around rapid-fire gulps of not-enough air.

His face was etched with a kind of overwhelmed wild abandon as he finally fell backward onto his haunches, immediately reaching for Sam’s legs and digging in with sweat and cum damp fingers, his mouth opening silently like he was trying to say something but couldn’t get the words out and his arms shivering in sporadic little bursts all the way down to his palms as he rubbed trembling circles over Sam’s heated skin.

“God, Sammy, I don’t-…I didn’t, jesus, Sammy, I’ve never seen anything like…you’re so, fuck-god, just…need a second-”

His voice sounded suddenly weak and drained, and Sam struggled to pull himself upright against the bed, still trying to steady his own breath and gazing at his brother in sheer reverence, in awe.

“Dean…I’m, can I just ask why you…why-why-”

He trailed off, folding his hands together over his stomach and wondering if he should grab Dean’s hand where it was resting a few inches down just under his hip but feeling suddenly shy and disarmed by the overwhelming intensity of what they’d just done, his mind igniting with it, with what it all meant…with what it was, what it could be-

“I…you, uh…you said my name, Sammy,” Dean replied gently, a tired little smile playing around the edges of his mouth, “-you know, when you were-…before you realized I was standing there. But that’s not-that’s not why I…”

He skimmed his fingers up the center of Sam’s torso, petting a few light crisscrossing lines over Sam’s throat before moving toward his mouth, brushing the pad of his thumb across Sam’s lower lip and snaking his tongue across his own lips in an echo as he stared down at Sam with a few slow, heavy blinks and a strained swallow.

Sam could smell the subtle, dizzying scent of Dean’s cum on his fingers, and he inhaled deeply before breathing out in a soft groan, both of his hands lifting to cling to Dean’s wrist as he sucked two of his brother’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue up and down to the last knuckle of each and feeling immediately faint from the heady, intoxicating, fucking addicting taste.

Dean breathed out his name again with a sharp curl of his fingers, pushing back hungrily into Sam’s mouth and stroking over the length of his tongue, moving his hand into a rhythm of shallow in-and-out thrusts that had Sam scrunching down and tilting his head back to open himself up even further to the greedy, perfect push of Dean’s fingers.

Dean raised his other hand to cup Sam’s face along his jawline, rubbing firmly there as he eased a third finger and then, amazingly, a fourth in between the stretch of Sam’s lips.

“God, your fucking _mouth_ ,” he whispered, a new drizzle of sweat trailing down his forehead and his fingers spreading, splaying out, over Sam’s tongue, “-jesus, look at you…fuck, just-let me…just wanna-...open up a little wider for me, Sammy, come on. Just relax your jaw. I wanna try-, I wanna see...how much you can take.”

And…well-

Sam _always_ did what his brother told him to do.

Always.


End file.
